


Deeper Magic

by Spinofflady



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6252364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinofflady/pseuds/Spinofflady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narnia was not always the glorious kingdom it is now. Castles were unheard of. Trained armies were myths. But since the Golden Age and the current reign of Caspian the Tenth, the world has blossomed into something great.</p><p>So many have forgotten what was.</p><p>Narnia was once a savage land.</p><p>And so it will be again.</p><p>The Wildlands of the North have turned truly wild. The hostile tribes have banded together, seeking revenge on the Narnians. The Kingdom finds that it must place its trust in a Northerner, who has given them no reason to trust her. As the world battles for mere survival, hope in Aslan begins to fade. After all, the Great Lion himself declared that he could not help them until the Deeper Magic was released. But the grave danger lies with this: no one knows what the Deeper Magic is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deeper Magic

The black cloak of the tall figure dragged on the floor as the heels of boots clicked softly on the marble floor. A sword hung at the strangers waist, sharpened thoroughly with a wet stone.  It waited impatiently to be used, as did the dagger hanging from the sword belt.  The wolf head carved from ivory, placed atop the sword hilt, glinted in the moonlight streaming through the glass windows.  The figure approached the room at the end of the hall.  The feeling of sweet revenge was in the air.  A gloved hand reached for the door knob, twisting it _ever so slowly_. The door swung open, creaking as though in pain.  The nimble shape held its breath, waiting for the inhabitants of the room to stir.

"Who's there?" a voice from within demanded. The stranger made no reply, for they were a silent killer.  A young man rose from the bed, pulling a sword from a sheath next to his bed.  His deep brown eyes narrowed as he gazed at the door and the cloaked figure in it.  "Tell me who you are and I will spare you," he ordered.  The figure longed to laugh.  There would be no orders taken from him.

The ivory hilted sword was drawn in an instant, and slashed dangerously at the man. He could handle his own sword well, but was no match for the strength and speed with which the opposing sword was handled.  His weapon hit the stone floor with a resounding clang.  He bent hastily to pick it up, ducking under a swing from the other sword.  The blade suddenly struck his arm, and he could feel it was sharp enough the slice through bone, but by some miraculous means, it did not.  He stumbled back with a cry of pain, and heard the sheathing of a sword.

The figure knelt beside him, placing a knee on his injured arm to keep it still. The young man swung his fist at his attacker, only to have it stopped by the palm of the killer.  The hood of the cloak which the assaulter wore had slipped back just a little, and now a few facial features could be made out.  The man could see... eyes-- blue eyes.

Deep blue eyes glared out from under the black hood. They struck a fear in him that he could never explain.  Those eyes burned with fire; a fire stoked by hatred-- hatred for _him_. Why him?  He didn't know.  But this was the end.  The cloaked figure slid a knife across his cheek, leaving a trail of stinging pain behind it.  He braced himself for the worst.

Then it happened. The knife was released and it dropped to the ground beside him with a deafening clatter.  He suddenly knew why he had not been killed.  The sound of his men running up the stairs to his room could be heard.  The stranger gave him one last glare as it stood.  He saw the look in those eyes.  He knew what that look meant.

"I will finish you," that glare affirmed. "Someday I will come back, and I will finish you."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys! There is more to this story, however, I have not finished this book. If you want more, let me know. If I get enough requests I will continue the story.
> 
> ~Spinofflady


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